An Anthology of Jugoslav Poetry; Serbian Lyrics Part 15

In my court the morning's twilight found me; At the chase the early sun while rising, I upon the mountain--and behind it, On that mountain, 'neath a dark-green pine tree Lo! I saw a lovely maiden sleeping; On a clover-sheaf her head was pillow'd; On her bosom lay two snowy dovelets; In her lap there was a dappled fawnkin.

There I tarried till the fall of ev'ning: Bound my steed at night around the pine-tree: Bound my falcon to the pine-tree branches: Gave the sheaf of clover to my courser: Gave the two white dovelets to my falcon: Gave the dappled fawn to my good greyhound: And, for me,--I took the lovely maiden.

S. J. B.

Lx.x.xII

ANXIETY

I fain would sing--but will be silent now, For pain is sitting on my lover's brow; And he would hear me--and, though silent, deem I pleased myself, but little thought of him, While of nought else I think; to him I give My spirit--and for him alone I live; Bear him within my heart, as mothers bear The last and youngest object of their care.

S. J. B.

Lx.x.xIII

INQUIRY

Say, heavenly spirit! kindly say, Where tarries now this youth of mine; Say, is he speeding on his way, Or doth he linger, drinking wine?

If he be speeding on,--elated With joy and gladness let him be: If quaffing wine,--in quiet seated, O! his be peace and gaiety!

But if he love another maiden, I wish him nought but sorrow:--No!

Then be his heart with anguish laden!

And let Heaven smite his path with woe!

S. J. B.

Lx.x.xIV

FROZEN HEART

Thick fell the snow upon St. George's day; The little birds all left their cloudy bed; The maiden wander'd bare-foot on her way; Her brother bore her sandals, and he said: "O sister mine! cold, cold thy feet must be."

"No! not my feet, sweet brother! not my feet-- But my poor heart is cold with misery.

There's nought to chill me in the snowy sleet My mother--tis my mother who hath chill'd me, Bound me to one who with disgust hath fill'd me."

S. J. B.

Lx.x.xV

UNION IN DEATH

Fondly lov'd a youth and youthful maiden, And they wash'd them in the self-same water, And they dried them with the self-same linen Full a year had pa.s.s'd, and no one knew it Yet another year--'twas all discover'd, And the father heard it, and the mother; But the mother check'd their growing fondness, Banish'd love, and exiled them for ever.

To the stars he look'd, and bade them tell her: "Die, sweet maiden! on the week's last even; Early will I die on Sabbath morning."

As the stars foretold the event, it happen'd; On the eve of Sat.u.r.day the maiden Died--and died the youth on Sunday morning: And they were, fond pair, together buried; And their hands were intertwined together: In those hands they placed the greenest apples; When behold! ere many moons had shone there, From the grave sprung up a verdant pine-tree, And a fragrant crimson rose-tree follow'd: Round the pine the rose-tree fondly twined it, As around the straw the silk clings closely.

S. J. B.

Lx.x.xVI

LOVE AND SLEEP[30]

I walkt the high and hollow wood, from dawn to even-dew, The wild-eyed wood stared at me, and unclaspt, and let me through, Where mountain pines, like great black birds, stood percht against the blue.

Not a whisper heaved the woven woof of those warm trees: All the little leaves lay flat, unmoved of bird or breeze: Day was losing light all round, by indolent degrees.

Underneath the brooding branches, all in holy shade, Unseen hands of mountain things a mossy couch had made: There asleep among pale flowers my beloved was laid.

Slipping down, a sunbeam bathed her brows with bounteous gold, Unmoved upon her maiden breast her heavy hair was roll'd, Her smile was silent as the smile on corpses three hours old.

"O G.o.d!" I thought, "if this be death, that makes not sound nor stir."

My heart stood still with tender awe, I dared not waken her, But to the dear G.o.d, in the sky, this prayer I did prefer:

"Grant, dear Lord, in the blessed sky, a warm wind from the sea, Then shake a leaf down on my love from yonder leafy tree; That she may open her sweet eyes, and haply look on me."

The dear G.o.d, from the distant sea, a little wind releast, It shook a leaflet from the tree, and laid it on her breast, Her sweet eyes ope'd and looked on me. How can I tell the rest?

O. M.

Lx.x.xVII

LOVE CONFERS n.o.bILITY

He. Violet, little one mine, I would love thee, but thou art so small.